


Jolene

by Marinia



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bickering, Eventual Fluff, Fae & Fairies, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Logan Does Not Know What He's Getting Into, Logic | Logan Sanders-centric, M/M, Magic, Morality | Patton Sanders Tries, Pining, Remy Is There In The Background, Tears, Virgil Is Bitter, no villain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 14:34:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20565950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marinia/pseuds/Marinia
Summary: Logan hasn't talked to Virgil in months when there's a fight in his dormitory. At first, he'd only wanted to check on him, but... Virgil's new Friend- not that he minded him, but he was certainly Strange, not at all like the people Virgil would usually be around.And then he has a strange run-in with a couple that simply can't be human-Something was afoot here, and Logan would get to the bottom of it.





	Jolene

**Author's Note:**

> Violet wrote a wonderful Fae AU and brought those lovely mythical creatures onto my radar again.   
Blame them.

Logan hadn’t talked to Virgil in several months when he heard of the commotion around Virgil’s dormitory. He’d be lying if he told anyone he  _ wasn’t  _ worried. 

Which was silly, of course. Logan knew that Virgil had something of a penchant for keeping himself out of trouble- unless he was interested in participating for whatever reason, but still! And there’d been a fight, directly in the common room of his dormitory, and Logan… he just wished to ensure his friend’s- his former friend’s, that is, it wouldn’t do to forget it, as much as he might wish to, not that he did- that was to  _ say _ , he just wished to ensure his  _ former _ friend’s well-being and safety. Nothing else. 

Seeing the countless other students already in the building, he almost regretted his decision, but he forced himself to get through it, took a deep breath before commencing his way through the mass of human bodies who weren’t meant to be so close to each other. But he reminded himself of his purpose for coming here and took another deep breath, emboldening himself as if he was the ancient Heracles preparing for the ten years of servitude to Eurystheus. With all the people around him, all talking and screaming and chattering, touching and  _ nudging  _ him, he almost believed the twelve labours of Heracles to be the more appealing option! 

He blinked at the uncharacteristic bout of dramatism. 

Well, just another reason to try and follow his efficiency plan. He’d been falling behind terribly, averaging at around three hours of sleep per night instead of the desired eight, and maybe his lack of a structured and healthy meal plan was finally taking its toll? He knew he shouldn’t have chosen Cinnamon Crunch as the basis of 87% of his meals, but- 

_ Virgil was Hurt. _

Or  _ with  _ the hurt people, being inspected by a girl who seemed rather professional. She was poking a quickly darkening bruise on his temple, and Virgil winced, and Logan was cutting through the crowd before he could even register the man sitting next to him. 

“Virgil? You- are you alright?” His voice was breathless. Had the crowd already used up such a great amount of the oxygen in the air? 

“Excuse me? I wasn’t finished checking him, could you wait a minute?” The girl’s voice was annoyed and she didn’t roll her eyes but it was obvious she wanted to. 

“He- He’s my friend!” The words weren’t true anymore, and Logan didn’t even have the mind to correct himself, or even notice the mistake. Virgil was  _ hurt _ , had been  _ punched _ . “I won’t just- wait around here, what even happened, you- you didn’t get involved, right? You wouldn’t, you’re too smart, but why- who did this? This should be- this should be brought up to the- the student union president! This is assault!” 

The girl snorted, patting Virgil’s shoulder before leaving and Logan just wanted to ask her what the hell was wrong with her, when Virgil stopped him. 

“Uh, it was actually the guy- the student union president- who hit me. He, uhm, got into some fight with his girlfriend, and kinda went all...” Virgil brought his finger up to his head, making circles with it. 

“Oh.” 

“I’m sure he’ll apologize when he comes to! He seemed very nice whenever I talked to him before! I’m sure this- this was just a one-time thing! A lil’ burst of silliness with all the exams coming up! Right, V? He’ll bounce right back!” 

Logan glared at the absolute  _ simpleton _ who'd caught his attention with nothing but that  _ outrageously  _ ‘silly’ phrase. 

He startled, against his will, when he found a familiar face. 

Not really 'familiar' in the traditional sense, he'd admit. He'd only seen this individual when he started hanging around Virgil, just a few weeks after he'd have moved into his dormitory. If he didn't change his plans at least… Either way, the guy was strange, always seemed to be wearing fifteen different layers on top of each other, even in the California heat, each one either brightly coloured, patterned, lace or wool, sometimes multiple. He stood out wherever he went thanks to his eccentrics, drawing looks and… 

It'd been weird, Logan would admit, when he'd started seeing Virgil walking across campus with the bizarre stranger. Exposing himself to so much attention, from strangers no less, and seeming unbothered by it too- Logan had been slightly disconcerted. It didn't fit the friend he'd known since they were both just toddlers. 

But then again, how well had he really known Virgil? Maybe he'd just never been someone who was…  _ worth  _ all those looks, maybe Virgil had simply changed, 'loosened up' for someone who was worth it, like- Maybe- 

"Yeah right, Pat, have you seen him? I don't think he'll  _ cool down _ until he gets socked in the face with a snowball, which… seeing where we are? Not so likely." Virgil's voice was soft with fond amusement under the derision. Logan missed the tone being directed at him. 

‘Pat’ giggled, a sickly sweet sound, clapping sweater-pawed hands. “You made a pun!” The way he looked at Virgil, it reminded him of cupcakes topped with whipped cream and sprinkles. So sweet he might gag. “Ohhh, what if we really tried that? I could invite him to that indoor skiing thing you mentioned and we could-"

"-I  _ literally  _ only talked about how its an capitalist exploitation of a desire mostly created by publicity glamorizing all the expensive ways you can fall on your butt while also freezing it off-"

"-And we could talk it out! And become friends, and eat dinner after, and maybe even see a movie!" 

Virgil snorted, and it wasn't malicious. Was  _ fond _ . Despite the stranger's outlandish ideas or his weirdly Cute smiles, it wasn’t malicious or contemptuous. 

"Sure, Pat, and after that we go and what? Braid each other's hair? Help him make up with Miss Sunshine over there?"

‘Miss Sunshine’ was currently busy throwing a lamp across the room, her friends having apparently been too slow to stop her. Her newly ex-boyfriend threw it right back. 

"Why not! We could even bring- what's your name again?"

Logan startled at being addressed again, having been prepared to just awkwardly slink off, but the stranger’s- Pat’s smile was freezing him in place. "Uhm, Logan. Logan Croft."

"Like the jelly brand!"

"Yes, I… do suppose so. I don't think I've caught your name?" Logan asked. Albeit this  _ Pat _ seemed like the person to have no inhibitions against any nicknames, or any other oddities so commonly found in human interactions. He rather seemed to revel in it. 

"Well, then get your hands ready cuz I'll throw it at ya!" He laughed, gesturing as if to throw a ball. Logan’s nose twitched upwards. "I'm Patton! And this is Virge, my lovely nightingale of a room mate! He may only sing during the night, but that only just makes his song sweeter!" Didn’t his cheeks have to start hurting from all that smiling? 

_ "Pat!" _ Virgil laughed, amused besides his embarrassment. “Don’t be dumb, dude.” He still didn't seem truly annoyed. Logan did not  _ understand _ . 

"Well, I’m happy to hear you’re such a… good friend, Patton.”

“Aw, thank you! How do you know him, I’ve never seen you around!” I stung, even as Patton seemed entirely unaware of any attacks on his part. It’d most likely been on accident. 

“We- Virgil and I, we were… childhood friends.” 

"Really? Not very good ones, huh?” He laughed, and Logan wanted to run. “Just ‘cause he never mentioned you at all! It’s so nice of you to come check on an old acquaintance!” Patton beamed, was still sweet and innocent and  _ cute _ . 

Logan’s breath caught at the sentence, spoken so flippantly, as if their friendship- as if everything- as if the  _ years _ \- He blinked, rapidly, and focused on his breathing. He nodded, stiffly. 

Virgil seemed worried now. Let him, Logan thought bitterly, somewhat vindictive, still having to blink more than- would be considered normal. 

He spoke before Virgil would have the chance to ask after his ‘well-being.’ "It has been a while, I suppose. You're sure that your health is in a satisfactory state, Virgil?"

The man who used to send him Vines and record poorly sung covers of My Chemical Romance and Taylor Swift nodded. He looked distinctly uncomfortable now. 

Logan muttered some excuse to get away from the Chipper Annoyance who'd been chosen to replace him, and the man who let him. It was clear he wasn't wanted or needed. That he wasn’t what Virgil desired in his life anymore. 

He didn't look back, didn’t know if Virgil looked after him, fretting and worried, or if he turned right back to his new friend to exchange soft barbs. He told himself he didn't care either way. 

He didn’t even believe it himself. He could only hope time would change that. 

~ 

Logan wrote down his last few notes as the professor ended the class, familiar signs filling the pages. He'd chosen to teach himself Gregg shorthand in middle school, to prepare for high school and later college, knowing it would increase his productivity immensely. Virgil had learnt it too. 

He smiled, a wry, bitter thing, as he remembered the notes they'd pass each other, and the teachers' annoyance when they couldn't read them when picking them from one of their hands. Not that it mattered now, of course, he doubted Virgil even remembered the shorthand, it'd been so long- 

_ "You!"  _

Logan rolled his eyes at the exclamation. Did the other students not know to talk at a sensible volume?

"Stop at once, you there! We  _ must  _ talk to you!" 

Logan quickened his gait. Were some fools engaging in a Romantic Scene again? 

A groan from the same voice, somehow even more dramatic than one would assume from his shouting. "Would you stop for  _ one second? _ Good grief, what's with mortals here-"

Logan cringed. So it was one of  _ those _ weirdos. 

Logan did not scream when a hand grabbed his arm. This should be noted, as it was the truth and not a lie whatsoever. He also didn't throw his notebook to the ground or hit the  _ assailant _ in the face with his book-bag. Anyone who would claim otherwise, or offer a link to a Helpful YouTube Video shouldn't be believed as they were lying and also wrong. 

"What the hell?!" The man's voice was still dramatic, shrill and high pitched as he cradled his cheek. There was no sign it’d even touched him. "What did I do to deserve that?" 

"If I'm not incorrect, most mortals tend to… startle, when touched without warning," the man accompanying him commented, slily. 

"I was just behind him! It's not like I was  _ subtle! _ "

The second man smiled, disgustingly fond. "I doubt you could ever be  _ that _ , darling." 

The dramatic one smiled too, then, besotted as only the fictional tended to be. “You know me too well,  _ fy neidr _ .” Unbelievable. He even tugged at a strand of his unruly red hair, sun reflecting off his dark skin, the picture of a Smitten Gay Disaster. And the other wasn’t much better, golden eyes looking molten and warm. 

Logan cleared his throat, before they could start making out in front of him. Or, even worse, exchange sappy professions of love.

The redhead turned to him then, blinking as if he'd forgotten his existence and was annoyed to be reminded of it, before grinning up at him, lips soft and plump and painted pink, dragging his partner with him by the arm as he stepped towards Logan, offering him his hand to shake. 

It felt like a trap. Logan took the hand before he could even register the movement. 

" _ Hi _ , you may call me Roman, it’s  _ so _ lovely to make your acquaintance, we wanted to ask if you knew anything about our friend? He's been missing, it’s terribly worrisome!"

"How sad,” Logan replied, monotonically. “My name's Logan, thanks for asking."

The redhead's- Roman's- partner continued unbothered, an easily charming smile on his face. Logan felt dizzy. "It really is  _ such _ a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Logan. Do you know anything about the whereabout of our friend? He should be about so tall," he gestured with his hand to a height a few inches above Logan, "very sweet, very personable, he tends to stick to more gloomy people-" 

"Never seen someone like that, sorry." Logan’s reply was too quick. 

"But- you were  _ with him _ ,” Roman said. He sounded angry, like he knew Logan was lying, like it was a personal affront-

"How would you know that?" Logan's voice was sharper than intended. "You don't know me and don't seem to know your mysterious friend either."

_ "Don't be needlessly rude, my Logan," _ the second man hissed, smooth as silk. 

"I'm sorry," Logan’s voice replied. He hadn't  _ wanted  _ to. His heart rate accelerated.  _ He hadn’t meant to say that _ .  _ He hadn’t Wanted to say that. _

The man just nodded, seeming pleased. Roman rolled his eyes, seeming fond but not- disturbed, or worried or like this was anything but ordinary and Logan knew it was ludicrous, but he wanted to run. His hands were shaking. He wanted to  _ flee _ . 

His feet were glued to the floor as he tried moving them. He broke out in a cold sweat. His breath stayed too slow, too calm. He couldn’t even- 

The second man- Logan still didn’t know his name, wasn’t sure if he should ask as the tall man stepped forward, lean muscles seeming coiled, one half of his face glittering in the sun as if he’d covered it in too much highlighter. His smile was so self-satisfied he could’ve been mistaken for one of the spoiled brats Logan used to get in fights with in middle school, before he broke a finger and his parents expressed Their Worry About His Future. His fingers curled into a fist. 

“That wasn’t so hard, right Logan?” The stranger’s voice was so smooth, so charming. His hand relaxed before he could even notice. He didn’t notice Roman’s amused grin either, before he bit on his lip and stepped next to his nameless partner, red hair shining in the sun. Logan wished he could run a hand through it. Why had he even been so frightened in the first place? Why would he even  _ want _ to leave?

“Now, did you see our friend? We’d really appreciate it if you could tell us, Logan,” Roman asked, taking Logan’s hand in his. It was warmer than Logan had expected, almost feverish.  _ “Please?” _

“He was with Virgil, they’re friends.” Logan heard his voice but had no control over what he said, a fog between him and his actions, something like vines restraining the panic in the back of his mind. “I don’t know where he lives, but he could very well be with Virgil, his dormitory is across from the Performing Arts building,” 

Virgil must’ve been so excited to get a place in the dorm, he’d always loved set design… not that Logan knew, of course, that was.. after their argument. “He lives on the third floor, I believe, second room to the left.” He’d tried to talk once. He just ended up standing in front of Virgil’s door like a creep before leaving. Coward. 

The couple in front of him didn’t care for his trip down memory lane though, or the dazed look in his eyes, or even the tears that’d begun shining in his eyes at the memory. 

Or, Roman did, eyes widening with obvious worry, his other hand cradling Logan’s face- “Oh dear, did I overdo it? Dee, do you have any idea-”

The stranger said something, but Logan didn’t catch it, the fuzz filling up his brain, his focus zeroing in on the way Roman touched him. He was so warm, his skin was prickling under the touch, wanting to lean into it, to never leave, to explore the way Roman’s hands would feel on him- 

Roman’s hands left him, and Logan almost stumbled as he tried to chase after them, strangely cold, shivering now. He  _ needed-  _

A hand stopped him, holding him back; the nameless man. His eyes were cold now. It was frightening. He held Roman’s hand, who watched him like a lab rat. Logan only now noticed the tattooed snake around his neck, glimmering the same way the nameless man’s face did. 

“I think it’d be better if you didn’t think about this again, huh Logan? Like it never happened at all.” The nameless man’s words were laced with a viper’s poison. Logan didn’t know how to defend himself against it, nodding before being let go, a mouse being lucky enough not to be swallowed by a constrictor. 

The two men left, the red-head and the snake, in the direction of the Performing Arts building. 

Logan squinted. Were they visiting some friends of theirs? They’d be disappointed to find the building closed to visitors today. He should maybe tell them, but- 

A shiver of fear, at the sole idea of striking up conversation with the two strangers. Logan turned around, to head to his usual coffee shop, to study and revise today’s classes. He had a report and two essays to write. The faint memory of fear already turned to fuzz. 

~

The next few days were… odd, to say the least. He lost his current train of thought whenever he spotted a person with red hair, or when he looked at the glittering makeup some of the other students wore for too long and his hands were unsteady no matter what exercise he did. His focus was fleeting even when he eliminated all distractions and played the Grand Study Playlist he’d been adding to since the eighth grade. It was the very same which earned him a Perfect GPA. 

The only thing he could think about now was all the times he’d studied with Virgil, and how the seat across from him was always empty now when he’d thought- 

He’d grown more accustomed to having to blink away tears as well. It was most cumbersome. 

Then there were the dreams. He couldn’t remember them, only the feeling of vines and too hot skin and of fear. He could only remember the way he ripped open the windows whenever he woke up, until he didn’t even bother closing them, ignoring his roommate’s grumbling about Being So Cold, Babe, You Know I Don’t Bring People Here, But I Just Might Have To, Or I Will  _ Not _ Survive This Cold! 

Despite his words Remy wasn’t a jerk in more than words. He even recognized the bags under Logan’s eyes and started getting him coffee too each morning, and that after a stunningly short time of cohabitation. 

Logan watched him that morning, sipping on his reusable Starbucks cup, while Remy was texting some special  _ someone, _ keeping up a stream of chatter detailing the most recent gossip and flipping some scrambled eggs Logan was pretty sure had been meant to become an omelette all the while. 

Remy didn’t wear his sunglasses for once, the curtains closed to keep the offending sunlight out of their dormitory. There were no bags under his eyes that Logan could see, but with the countless tubes of make-up in their shared bathroom Logan knew that was no solid evidence for a good night’s rest. And despite the sharp eyeliner and the flawless skin and green lips, Remy was mazing, talking in circles and relying on filler words more than usual, his cup most likely the second or third that day. The way he was nursing it, it wouldn’t be the last either. Logan reminded himself to get him some store bought cookies and tea that evening, in the vain hope that it might at least convince Remy to rest for the shortest of minutes. 

He’d have to be subtle about it, of course, or Remy would demand he rest as well, which just wouldn’t do. He had to  _ work! _ Not that he got much done as of late, but… it was all the more reason to keep at it, wasn’t it? 

He blinked. His mind was wandering again. The light from the lamp was reflecting off the thermos Logan would be taking to class later. It glimmered and glittered, like- 

“Hun? You still with me? C’mon Lo, babe,  _ hun _ , I’m not here to talk to an uncaring audience!” Remy whined. Logan looked up, seeing Remy nod to himself, self-satisfied. Something was scratching at the back of his mind. It was at the back of his tongue. 

He wanted-  _ needed _ \- to know, the knowledge so close. He wanted to pry his brain open, scratch until the nervous energy under his nails was gone and he held his prize in his hands; red hair shining in the sun- “That wasn’t so hard,  _ right  _ Logan?” Remy asked. Not meaning anything. Meaning so much without attempting to. 

Logan sat frozen. 

His feet were glued to the ground, but they were on the chair, his legs crossed, but he was standing. Remy was in front of him, but it was  _ him _ , but it was red locks but Remy was a brunet, his hair was straight, but it wasn’t. His skin was dark, but Remy was brown, but not, but everything was blurry. 

The thermos glittered in the light, like too much highlighter, like- 

the nameless, the snake, the one besides- 

Roman. 

The one who’d asked about Patton and Virgil and he’d told them- what had he  _ done? _ How stupid had he been, how thoughtless, how could he have ever allowed such a thing, put Virgil at such a risk, he’s been right to cut Logan off- 

“Hun? Lolo? What’s- Hun, you’re  _ shaking. _ ” 

Logan tuned Remy out as soon as he heard him talking again. He had to go, to leave, to look for Virge, his friend, he was in danger, and Logan had made it possible in the first place, and Logan wouldn’t let him be hurt again- 

“Logan!” Remy shook him, forced Logan to  _ look  _ at him, and… his hair was straight again. The visions of red disappeared, but not the memories. Logan could move his feet again. Remy’s eyes were wide. “Logan, babe, what the fuck, what just happened? You know i’ll bury a guy in our non-existent backyard for you, hunny, but you gotta tell me why first!” 

Logan didn’t reply, watching numbly, feeling his fear crash against his ribs, ebbing and rising and inescapable. 

“Logan? Come on, bae, you can trust me, right?” 

Logan- wanted to protest. There was little reason to rust Remy, or anyone at all, the chance for betrayal and mockery was a variable to always be taken into account, Logan couldn’t risk to miscalculate, but. Remy’s eyes were soft. Caring. Tired but caring. Afraid but caring. His friend, caring about him. 

“Someone- I met two men, they were- I don’t think they were usual, as infinitesimal the chances of that might be. I think- they might hurt Virgil. Or his- Patton. And-” 

“And Vi is a protective one?” Remy muttered. Either guessing or having listened to any choice of Logan’s Tirades And Rambles. No one could know. 

Logan nodded. “I have to help him.” 

Remy chuckled at that. “Then go save your damsel, hun,” he said, pulling Logan up and patting him on the shoulder. “And you better tell me everything after when you come back.” 

Logan was already leaving. 

“I’m talking details, babe! Details!” 

The door shut behind Logan, and Remy rolled his eyes, fonder than he would’ve let himself if the nerd was still in the room. 

~

Logan took the stairs to Virgil’s dorm two at a time, three if he was honest, air coming in thick, uneven gulps, his hands still shaking, he didn’t think they’d stopped since he left Remy. Images of the two men kept flashing in front of his eyes. 

They hadn’t been looking for Virgil, he tried to convince himself. They were just looking for Patton. 

But Virgil had always been protective, had been vigilant and cautious with it, yes, but beneath it was an obstinacy Logan would admit to admiring, on a good day. He just hoped it wouldn’t hurt his old- his former friend now- 

His door was-

Crushed open. 

Closed. 

Broken down and in pieces. 

In perfect condition. 

Logan gulped. He pinched himself, thinking of highlighters and red hair, and the door was broken. This wasn’t usual, this wasn’t- 

He’d never believed in  _ magic _ . It must be an illusion. 

He still stepped inside the dorm, quiet steps, over the threshold. Flowers were strewn about, along with- salt? Miniscule, white crystals, either way. 

The noise was sudden. 

As soon as his head moved over the threshold, he heard them- saw them, when before it’d been blurry shapes at best, like he’d forgotten to put on his glasses. 

Patton was shouting something, started to, not noticing him, to- Roman, the snake, they were on the other side of the room, they looked- 

Guilt, so much guilt, Logan’s knees buckled, he hit the floor, glass was digging into his hands- had he tried to catch himself? 

“Lo?!” 

He looked up- Virgil. Virgil, his Virgil, clinging to Patton, his knuckles so white, and Patton- Logan looked away before he could take him in, almost throwing up with the tears suddenly pressing against his eyes, the guilt, the frustration, the  _ worry _ , and it was all so much, all pressing against his skull, and he couldn’t- 

he heard steps, glass crunching, and- 

_ fear, worry, shame _

Roman took Patton’s hands, not that Logan could see, his eyes were pressed together tightly, refusing to let any tears escape, until- 

The emotions ebbed away. He was panting, sobbing without crying. The tears didn’t leave, but they didn’t press against his eyes anymore, didn’t threaten to spill over anymore. 

He was still shaking. He fell, and he was caught, no more glass digging into his sides, and it was warm. 

He hoped it was Virgil. 

(He’d be right, not that he knew it yet.)

~ 

When he woke, he was warm still. 

When he woke, it was to the sound of murmured whispers, just quiet enough he couldn’t understand them, just loud enough to wake him. He left his eyes closed, hoping to hear at least  _ something.  _

“You don’t have to pretend to sleep, Lo, you’re awful at it.” There was a strangled kind of laugh in Virgil’s voice. It was familiar in a reassuring way. 

Logan grumbled, taking the blanket- blankets, actually, Virgil must’ve been worried and fretting- with him as he sat up on the couch, eyes still halfway closed. He only opened them upon sitting up, and- 

They were in Virgil’s dormitory, the one he’d never been allowed in. The one he’d slept in for what could be  _ hours _ . 

“Don’t apologize, dude, I know you didn’t mean to faint like an old lady. Kinda hard not to, with these idiots pumping the air full of their magic…” He sounded annoyed rather than afraid. It did more to calm Logan than the blankets or the warmth. 

“You- What- Where’s Patton? Weren’t they looking for him? They asked me, but- I didn’t remember, for days, and I could’ve-” 

Virgil took his hand, and Logan nigh shuddered at the contact. “You could’ve done nothing, because you didn’t know nothing.” 

“That’s a double negative.” 

Virgil grinned, crooked. “And that’s the nerd I know.” 

Logan chuckled, worn. It was almost like old times, right down to the heat fighting to find its way onto his cheeks and the beauty of Virgil’s smile. 

The voices in the next room rose up, and Virgil grimaced. Logan did too, worry twisting up his face. Virgil hated loud noises, and arguing, and being away from the Action. 

The ignorance, he’d said, it made it so unbearable to be on the outside, looking in. And now he was here, either by will or by force, and Logan couldn’t help but feel guilty, feel like, if he hadn’t been here, Virgil would know what they were saying in the other room. Like, if he’d remembered before, when it could’ve been fixed still, there wouldn’t be an argument to eavesdrop on at all. Like, if he’d been able to Shut Up For Once In His Life, Patton wouldn’t even be there. 

Virgil sighed, the sound accompanied by a fondness in his face that Logan had ached to see again. “You freaking out yet?” He smiled, sardonically in the way Logan knew hid anxiety. 

He shrugged. “Are you? It’s your friend who’s- paranormally inclined.” 

“Magic, you mean?” 

“This hasn’t been proven.” 

“What else do ya think it is?” Virgil grinned, already knowing the answer but loving the argument. 

“Futuristic technology is much more probable,” Logan grumbled. 

Virgil snorted, an easy sound, a familiar sound. “ _ Sure _ , buddy, you go tell yourself that.” 

“What evidence would you have of magic being the bedrock of this mystery?” 

“I mean, I actually know how to talk like a normal person, so jot that down-” 

“ _ Please,  _ like that has  _ any _ relevance at all here-” 

“AND even if it’s not magic, aliens would’ve been way more probable than time travel! Like, come on, why would time travelers want to visit us?” 

“Maybe we’ll be popular in the future. I could be the one who finds a way to make space travel both feasible  _ and  _ sustainable.” 

“And I’m the retired sidekick they picked up to get close to you?” Virgil asked, quirk of his lips a familiar kind of amused. It warmed Logan as he smirked back, a familiar kind of teasing. 

“Or they were just curious because, long after both our deaths, your hidden poems were found and declared to be the masterpieces I have recognized them to be from day one.” 

“Logan!” Virgil screeched, swatting his arm, and Logan laughed. “I never should’ve shown you those…,” his old friend grumbled, but it bore no heat. Logan grinned, in a silly way. The homesickness plaguing him ever since he left their hometown had abated. 

“But then how could I annoy you about trying to publish them?” 

**“-How am I ever supposed to learn if you won’t let me ** ** _do_ ** ** anything?!” **

Both men flinched at that. 

Their stomachs turned and Logan gripped his throat, feeling the sudden lump inside it as tears pressed against his eyes. Virgl wasn’t any better, tears staining his face, smearing his make-up. It’d been beautiful too, cat eyeliner and everything. Virgil choked on a sob. The red always rising to his cheeks when he cried was partly covered up by his foundation. But not enough. 

His old, technically his former, friend took hold of his hand, and Logan squeezed it even as it almost hurt, the way Virgil clung to him. He’d always hated crying. 

The voices in the room over were hushed again. The door closed shut, any words becoming indistinguishable, and Virgil flinched, sinking into himself. It reminded Logan of too many late nights when Virgil’s anxiety had been playing tricks on his mind. 

He tapped a rhythm on Virgil’s wrist. 

Virgil snorted. 

It was a familiar pattern. 

“So you didn’t get any better at comfort words?” Virgil muttered, and Logan shook his head. 

“I don’t think we should be here,” he whispered. His voice was weak. He’d always lost it when people were crying. “It’s not doing- doing any of us any good.” 

“This is my dorm.” 

“Is it? 

“I live here, I can’t- I can’t leave here.” 

“But… can you stay either? He- Patton, he doesn’t-” Logan wouldn’t let his voice give out, even as it sounded more like he was muttering and rasping rather than talking. “Whatever he turns out to be, I don’t think he’s safe, V.” 

Virgil froze. “You don’t know him.” 

“Do I need to? He-” The tears lining Logan’s eyes weren’t someone else’s anymore. “He made you cry.” 

Virgil laughed, wet. “So did you.” 

Logan recoiled. Virgil rubbed his hand, warmer than the rest of him now, feeling painfully cold now. 

“I never-” 

“He doesn’t either. He’s not even in control of it, pocket protector. What’s your excuse?” Virgil smirked, a cruel perversion of his smile. It felt like betrayal. 

“I just- I’d thought you were rushing into things, not thinking them through-” 

Virgil crossed his arms, shuffling away. Logan could see him build up his walls again. He wished he’d kept his mouth shut. “Don’t be coy now, Lo, and just  _ spit it out _ .” 

Logan kept silent, and Virgil’s smile twisted, growing, saturnine and bitter. “It’s not like you held back _before_. You know how much it can fuck with you if the guy you _always relied on_ tells you that you’re _rushing into _something? That you’re being irrational and _dumb?!-”_

“I never-”

“You didn’t need to!” Virgil snapped, voice loud and raw before it turned silent, bitter and twisted. “Besides, why argue now? You got what you wanted! I’m single again, what I had with-” Virgil squeezed his eyes shut, pushing away the tears. “It went up in flames. Just like you said, didn’t you,  _ smart guy? _ ” It sounded like an insult. “You happy now? Everything  _ satisfactory?”  _

“Why- Whyever would that be  _ satisfactory to me?”  _ Logan’s voice broke. The desperation, the way he wasn’t tethered to anything, lost in a storm of his own thoughts- he felt like a teenager again, his skin itching as if it was pulled too tightly over his bones. 

“Didn’t you get what you want?” Virgil was crossing his arms, leaning back against the second-to-third-hand couch table. “Being _right? _Being so much smarter and so much _better_ than anyone else, aren’t you, Logan?” His voice was bitter like black coffee with three shots of espresso. So bitter Logan gagged on it. 

“I just didn’t want you to  _ leave _ .” The words broke out of him against his will, wet and brittle and weak and he could see the realisation on Virgil’s face. Saw the way his eyes got big and the last traces of his perfunctory smile left his face. “I didn’t want to be left behind for some- perfect romance I couldn’t ever offer, for someone who knows how to comfort you, for someone-” His voice left him, choked off by the lump in his throat and the tears pressing against his eyes. “Someone who’s so much  _ better _ .” He couldn’t blame them on Patton’s nebulous influence now. He held them back. His cheeks were still sticky with old tears. It felt like a farce, leaving rubbed raw and weak and vulnerable. 

“I… Logan, I never would’ve-  _ Logan _ , I  _ never  _ would’ve left you behind. Not for him, not for- there’s  _ no one _ better than you at being my best friend, Lo _ . _ ” Virgil’s hands shook but his voice was steady as he softly took Logan’s hand, the one he’d been holding earlier, that he’d been squeezing as Logan panicked about colleges and the Future. Logan gripped it tightly. Afraid to let go, to be let go of. 

“I’m sorry for ruining your relationship, Virgil. I really am. He- He made you smile, made you so happy, I shouldn’t- my own feelings, they were no excuse-” He couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. 

“I know. And… I’m gonna take a while to forgive you, Lo, but… it’s always been us, and I don’t- having that change… it’s not something i want to happen. Not as long as you get better, Lo.” 

“I- of course. I don’t ever want to hurt you like that again, not if I can help it.” 

Virgil smiled, weak and frail and real and Logan returned it though the tears and the hole inside his chest was starting to knot itself together again. 

Virgil sighed, leaning against the back of the couch, closer to him, not yet touching. “You’re a dumbass, Lo, I hope you know that. Ruining  _ months _ of potential co-self-destruction for your little tiff. Such a drama queen.” 

“Like you were any better? Throwing yourself at the first paranormal person you can find…” Logan clicked his tongue. “Very ‘cringe’, if I do say so myself.” 

“Yeah, nope, of you’ll try to use slang now I’m out, I don’t know you, I’ll go off with the magic people and all these tears will’ve been for nothing-” 

“And you say  _ I’m  _ dramatic?” 

“I’m being Perfectly Reasonable!” 

“U-hu,” Logan replied. Doubtily. 

He wanted to elaborate on his Doubtful Doubts, wanted to joke and smile and work on fixing the rift he knew had grown between them- when Patton stormed out of the room, not slamming the door behind him, but closing it with the kind of controlled meticulousness that made it obvious he’d really like to. 

Patton took a visible breath. When he faced the two mortals, his eyes were red, as well as his face. It was obvious they hadn’t been the only ones to cry. “I’m sorry for- for letting it splash over. I didn’t mean to.” 

The silence coming from the other room was the kind of all-encompassing that must be induced by some kind of magic or technology. 

Virgil stood up from his place on the couch, undeterred by the tear tracks still wet on his own cheeks. “C’mere, Pat. This must’ve been hard,” he muttered, obviously knowing  _ something _ Logan didn’t. 

Whatever it was, it must be important. Patton practically shrunk as he folded himself into Virgil’s arms, letting the other hold him up while Virgil rubbed circles over his back. He easily guided Patton to the couch, where Logan made room, even as he watched the display with no small amount of incredulity. 

They settled down easily, like neither of them was anything but normal, like one didn’t have some kind of Empathic Ability. Instead, the contact held the kind of ease that implied such snuggling wasn’t too rare in their friendship. 

Logan hugged his knees close to his chest, welcoming the barrier between the two Best Friends and himself. 

He shouldn’t have forgotten. Virgil had managed to make a new friend, as weird as he might be, where Logan had spent his time mourning his own mistakes. And they’d been grave enough that, even now, a paranormal, over-emotional  _ snuggler _ was preferable to him. 

Virgil thankfully didn’t notice his personal pity party, mouthing ‘Helicopter dads’ to his old friend by way of explanation, between much shushing noises and a lot of calming humming. 

Logan nodded. It’d certainly explain the Encounter with the… Paranormal Couple, even if they looked a bit young to have a son Patton’s age. Maybe it was the same Peculiarity which Patton owed his Emotional Affinity to? Or they  _ were _ time travelers, and there was medicine to halt the aging process in the future, and Patton had gotten himself access to a time machine in an act of Belated Teenage Rebellion. He really  _ did  _ have to ask Patton about it, whenever he seemed ready. Magic was obviously much too simple a solution to be at play here. But, watching Patton hiding away in Virgil’s chest, he doubted that any questioning would happen soon. 

He wondered if Patton was left so upset by arguments with his parents often. He wondered- 

The door opened, and a man stepped out, with red curly hair. Logan felt the heat in his cheeks despite all arguments against it, hating the sensation, hating the way it felt so flat and fake next to the warmth filling him when just looking at Virgil. 

Roman knelt down in front of Patton and Virgil, not touching, but close enough for Patton to do so if he wished it. He looked positively wrecked, face red and shoulders hunched. 

He sighed, a heavy sound, only weighing his shoulders down further. “Hey, Pat. We’re sorry. We never meant to- to  _ hurt  _ you.” His voice broke with grief. “We were just- so worried someone would hurt you, fy cariad, and we wouldn’t know, wouldn’t be able to- to protect you.” He rolled his hands, wanting to reach out, to be sure his son was  _ there _ and  _ safe _ and- Patton took his hands, hesitantly but there, and Roman squeezed them like his life depended on it, offering a watery smile. “We’ll be better though, I promise.” 

“I just-” Patton gaped for a moment, looking for words, tears already rimming both his and the mortals’ eyes, “- you and Dad met when you walked into his mushroom circle! And you ended up happy! But me? I don’t even get to decide who I get to  _ befriend _ , let alone date…” 

Roman sighed, hand rubbing along the snake tattoo on his neck, a tortured smile on his face as he watched his son. “And I had a hell of a lot of good luck, sweetheart.” His fingers ran over Patton’s hand. “I’m just afraid you won’t have that same luck.” 

A sigh interrupted Patton before he could even think to answer- Roman looked up over the edge of the couch, face softening as he saw his husband. 

Logan watched the snake walk over to stand next to Roman, sitting down on the fragile living room table. It somehow didn’t break. “And we were wrong to act on these feelings, pili- _ pat _ -a,” he sighed. Roman nodded, his other hand reaching out to take his husband’s. Logan only now noticed the golden band on the snake’s finger. They exchanged a glance. To Logan, it was almost too tender to observe. He didn’t look away. According to what they said, the snake must be a Fae. How real could his displays of emotion be? 

“But it’s obvious you know how to choose the right people to be with, just like your Papa did,” he continued. 

“Narcissist.” Roman grinned, even as he said it, leaning against his husband’s thigh. “We both know I had no idea what I was doing- as opposed to Pat, who looks to be an Excellent judge of character.” 

Patton grinned at the compliment and Virgil turned a distinctive shade of red, even as he refused to even try fleeing from where he practically held Patton in his lap. 

Patton wasn’t hiding anymore, seemed almost at ease. “Aw, you both know I was just going with what Felt right." 

The snake sighed, long-suffering, the fondness practically rolling off him. "I taught you so well, and yet you inherited nothing but your father’s good fortune…" He shook his head in exaggerated suffering. 

His husband snorted while his son rolled his eyes. "I know, dearheart, how cruel of fate to gift you a child so wonderful not even fate would want him to be hurt.”

"Dad!" 

"You know I’m joking, fy cariad,” Roman smiled. “Even though you've become so much stronger, so much  _ kinder _ than we ever could've dreamed of, I wouldn’t be surprised if Lady Fate had reservations about hurting you." Roman's face softened as he spoke. Logan looked away then. He still felt tears push against his eyes. 

" _ Dad.  _ You- you know I've forgiven you already." 

It was the snake who spoke up then, taking Patton’s other hand. "And we'll make sure we deserve it, Patty. We…” It was almost ridiculous, how after decades it was still difficult to utter the phrase, in spite of how true it rang. “I love you  _ so much _ ." 

The words echoed with an aracne sort of power, promise and oath wrapping around the room, and Virgil blinked as Patton threw himself at his Dads faster than the human eye could see. 

The family was hugging, snug-bug-close together, Roman holding them all as Patton lost a tension in his shoulders, a worry in his eyes, Virgil had been too afraid to recognise before. 

Virgil shifted to lean against Logan. Gently, ready to pull back if Logan showed even the slightest sign of discomfort. 

Logan didn't, he leant against his old friend, exhaling and, for the first time in months, relaxing. 

"Do you think they'll allow me to interview them on their Peculiarities?" He muttered, hoping the fae were too absorbed in their Emotions to hear. 

Virgil snorted. It was fond instead of derisive. Normal. "I don't know, but I'll leave the asking to you, Steve Irwin."

Logan smiled, leaning closer against Virgil. He’d work up his courage later, when Patton’s Fae Dads were gone. For now, he’d deny the butterflies starting to stir again in his stomach, and would just focus on the peace setting in. 

“Please, you know I’m more like Coyote Peterson.” 

“You sure have the same amount of common sense.” 

“I know but  _ hey. _ ” 


End file.
